


love grenade

by thunderylee



Category: Japanese Actor RPF, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Canon Universe, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-26
Updated: 2011-08-26
Packaged: 2019-01-27 17:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Turning the lights out, burning the candles, and the mirror’s gonna fog tonight.





	love grenade

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“We need to talk,” Kame says coolly, because everything he does is cool and he’s not at all intimidated by someone who’s almost a foot taller than him.

Shirota Yuu eyes him predatorily, creepily reminiscent of Jin. “About what?”

“About you and Meisa,” Kame replies. His voice is even but his eyes are narrowed, making his distaste clear.

A low chuckle sounds from Shirota,  _mocking_  him. “I wasn’t aware you two were involved.”

“We’re not,” Kame says, trying not to sound too sad about it. “I just don’t want her to get hurt. I’ve heard about you.”

“Oh, Kamenashi-kun.” Shirota’s voice is light, amused, and Kame wants to smack him for a second. “You obviously don’t know her very well.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kame snaps defensively, his guard down.

“What I mean,” Shirota breathes, his voice low and husky like he’s incapable of speaking at a normal volume, “is that I’m the one who’s usually  _hurt_  when we’re together.”

Kame’s eyes widen, mostly out of mortification, but there’s also a little bit of curiosity. Naturally, Shirota catches this and flashes a wicked grin.

“You can join us, if you’d like,” he offers carelessly, like he’s inviting Kame to a dinner party instead of a threesome, complete with the dismissive wave of his big hand. “Although you may be expected to  _do things_  with me, too. Mami’s into that.”

Flashes of  _doing things_  with Shirota cross Kame’s mind, and he eyes him critically. Kame doesn’t discriminate something as meaningless as  _gender_ , but he’s never fucked a giant before. If that’s what it takes to get close to Meisa, though…

“Name the time and place,” Kame says, flipping open his phone to schedule it into his Google calendar.

“Tonight, her place,” Shirota answers right away, a smirk adorning his features. “Wear something you don’t mind ruining.”

Kame’s mind immediately goes to an old shirt of Jin’s that has been hanging in his closet for seven years and his jeans from last season.

“See you there.”

*

“Shut your mouth and close the door.”

Kame, who’d just parted his lips to say ‘good evening’ for fuck’s sake, falls silent at the sight of her. He half expected the whole thing to be a big joke and walk in on them both wearing their respective sister habits, although Meisa’s actual clothes – or lack thereof – makes him want to drop to his knees just as bad.

Cleavage spilling over her red bustier, lace garter snapping into thigh-high red leather boots with five-inch stiletto heels, Meisa looks like the fierce dominatrix of every man’s fantasies toting a silver-braided flogger with black and red tails. Kame hasn’t actually had dominatrix fantasies before, but suddenly he feels like he’s been missing out, even though he’s clearly about to learn.

A sharp crack sounds as Meisa whips the corner of the wall. “It’s been awhile,” she says, like they’ve just run into each other downtown, like she’s not completely flashing him with her thong that may as well not even be there with as little as it covers and fucking him with her heavily lined eyes.

He doesn’t dare speak. He’s not nervous, because he’s Kamenashi Kazuya and he’s down for whatever, but his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he stands in the entryway to Meisa’s apartment and waits for her order.

“Strip,” Meisa commands, and Kame’s hands rush for the back collar of Jin’s shirt. “Slowly,” she adds, perching neatly on the edge of her couch. “Don’t give me any of that fruity shit you do on stage for the little girls. Do it right.”

Kame stares at her, hard, and holds her gaze as he pulls the shirt over his head. He tosses it to the side and stretches, showing off his lean torso, and he’d purposely not belted his jeans so they hung low on his hips. Of course, he’s going commando.

“Stop,” Meisa says, and Kame freezes with his arms over his head. She seems to be considering something and nods to herself, a smirk forming on her face as she flogs the wall again. “Papi, come.”

In the back of Kame’s mind, he’d known Shirota was there, somewhere, lurking like a creeper, but he never would have expected to see him walk out in nothing but black hot pants and a collar. The hot pants do nothing to hide his size and Kame gapes shamelessly, his hand rushing to his pocket to check and make sure he brought extra lube. If this goes the way he thinks it will, he’s going to need it.

“Papi here will take care of the rest,” Meisa croons, turning to smile sweetly up at Shirota, whose eyes never leave her. An obedient servant. “Make him pretty,” Meisa orders him.

Kame thinks about being offended, because he’s already pretty, dammit, but then Shirota’s walking towards him like some kind of henchman with a red scarf in his hands, and the last thing he sees before his vision is blocked by satin is Shirota’s deep brown eyes.

Shirota’s breath is hot on his ear, and Kame knows his shiver is visible. “You can call me Papi, too, if you’d like.”

“I’d rather n-”

“I said  _shut up_ ,” Meisa snaps, and her voice is even sharper when Kame can’t see her. “Make him squirm.”

It doesn’t take much, just Shirota’s finger trailing down the center of his chest, and Kame wavers in his stance. It hooks behind the button of his fly and pulls outward, an amused noise sounding from next to him as Shirota undoubtedly looks inside.

“Nice,” he purrs, and tears them off, leaving Kame standing completely nude in the middle of Meisa’s main room.

His skin tingles in anticipation. He should really be nervous now, but he feels more impatient than anything. He wants to growl for them to  _do something_  already, not just look at him, but he doesn’t want Meisa to yell at him again. Even if he likes the way it makes him feel.

Metal clinks and Kame shudders, the unknown turning him on more than he thought it would, which is probably obvious to everyone in the room with how he could fly the Japanese flag from his erection right now. He doesn’t have to wonder for long, though, since something fuzzy fastens around his wrists and his hands are bound behind his head.

Now the hot breath is on his throat, hints of a hot, wet tongue along his collarbones while fingers ghost the sensitive skin of his sides, making him squirm even more. He hopes Meisa enjoys this, the heathen, and then there’s the briefest pressure to the tip of his cock that pulls a moan from low in his throat.

A snap, and someone grabs the chain of his handcuffs, dragging him backwards throughout the apartment. Kame almost loses his balance but Shirota’s there to catch him – he knows those big hands – and it’s Shirota who lowers him down onto a soft surface, Meisa’s bed. Her sheets are pure silk and Kame could roll around in them forever; they feel perfect against his skin just like the bars on the headboard fit perfectly in his curled fingers.

Something sharp pokes his neck and Kame leans his head back, stretching as much as he can to avoid it. He doesn’t dare speak, straining to see through the blindfold but all he can tell is that the lights are out, darkness all around him except for flickering spots that he can only assume are candles.

But before he can think too much about it, he’s overcome by the sweet scent of raw female and senses Meisa close to him, the bed dipping with the weight of one pointed stiletto and all at once Kame knows what’s pressing into his neck just as it disappears. The next thing he knows, there’s lace in his face and his instincts take over, the strong scent leading him to lick around until he feels a bump twitch against his tongue and hears Meisa’s gorgeous moan.

She’s straddling his face, knees up and boots down on either side of his restrained arms, spreading her folds wide open for him to taste. He wishes his hands were free so he could touch her, probe into the wetness that drips on his chin as he laps at her and feel her tighten around his fingers, but he can’t. That doesn’t stop him from struggling, rattling the headboard from his efforts, and Kame realizes Meisa too is holding onto the railing when she shakes it back at him.

“Mm, Kazuya,” Meisa breathes. “You’re so good at this. I should have done this three years ago.”

Despite being tied up and blindfolded under the mercy of two people he doesn’t actually know very well, Kame feels pretty smug. He licks her faster, moving his tongue in well-practiced circles and she starts to rock on top of him, her breath coming in audible puffs. Then he feels his own legs pushed apart and lets out a harsh exhale in reaction, leading Meisa to grind against his face and growl above him.

“Relax, cariño,” Shirota’s voice sounds from a dubious location, followed by a teasing rush of cool air on his cock, which chills the small bit of moisture already formed from his arousal. Kame makes a frustrated noise and snaps his hips up in desperate search for friction, but he gets nothing and whines into Meisa’s clit.

“He’s fun,” Shirota tells Meisa, and the headboard shakes as her weight is redistributed. It takes a second for Kame to realize there’s now a mouth around him, a big one, hot and wet and  _sucking_  and he imagines Meisa’s hand in Shirota’s hair, pushing his head down onto Kame and right now Kame thinks Shirota’s lips are the gates to heaven.

His groan is delayed and he doesn’t bother to behave, pushing up into Shirota’s mouth and Shirota lets him. It’s tight and perfect and Kame flicks his tongue as fast as he can, feeling Meisa shudder on his face and he knows she’s going to come right before she falls apart. Her cries are piercing to his ears and the headboard bangs against the wall as she abruptly lets go of it and sinks her fingers in his hair, holding him still to keep his tongue against her through her orgasm.

And then Shirota’s mouth is gone, and this time Kame’s frustrated noise has definition. He struggles some more, trying to at least get his hands over his head, but Meisa reaches behind him and clicks the cuffs tighter.

“Bad,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his lips that are mostly covered by her juices. “Just for that, you have to wait longer.”

“Meisa-” he starts, but there’s another snap and Shirota’s in his mouth. That first kiss takes his breath away and Kame never quite catches up, vaguely aware that Shirota’s cleaning Meisa’s mess off of his face at the same time. As awkward as it is, it’s a nice gesture and Kame likes him a little more for being so thoughtful. He really hates having a sticky face.

Meisa’s nails rake along his skin, down his chest and thighs, using just enough pressure to drive him crazy. From hip to hip and he’s practically thrashing on the bed, wanting more, shamelessly arching in search of anything he can get. He’d rub against the bed right now if he thought he could get away with turning around, anything to get friction.

He’d known that he’d be violated eventually, but he didn’t expect it to be by Meisa. But those nails are what urge his legs to spread and trace patterns on the very inside of his thighs, along the crease between his thigh and groin and around his balls. This is the most he’s ever been teased in his life and he  _loves_  it, gasping into Shirota’s kiss and rocking his hips to try and feel more.

Shirota nips at his bottom lip and even that feels good, every touch and brief contact sending a current of need through him. He makes it until Meisa bumps his rim before moaning, loud and wanton like he’s doing this professionally, and Shirota falls from his lips and sucks along his jaw line. Both of his hands are on Kame, warm palms rubbing along his shoulder blades until one of them is urged away.

Meisa’s disappear as well, and the next finger to touch him is huge, slick with lubricant and Kame gasps as it pushes inside him. The lips that press against his are female, glossy and sweet, and he pants into Meisa’s mouth as he tries to kiss her properly while Shirota stretches him gently. He’s a docile giant, it seems, concerned with Kame’s comfort more than anything, and Kame opens up to him easily, enough to add a second finger.

Shirota strums him inside and now he’s moaning continuously, arching on Meisa’s silk sheets that are damp with his sweat because it feels so  _good_. He rocks up against the invasive touch and Shirota brushes something deep inside him that makes him jolt, cry out and fall completely out of Meisa’s kiss in favor of this intense sensation. Meisa doesn’t seem bothered, just kisses her way down his chest and licks a stripe up the underside of Kame’s cock that has a strangled scream tearing from Kame’s lungs.

The third finger is more difficult and Kame feels full to his limits, has no idea how he’s going to take Shirota’s massive dick, but he tries as hard as he can to relax even though his body stopped listening to him a long time ago. Then Meisa crawls over him and her nipples drag along his chest, her knees settling on either side of his waist as she leans down to whisper in his ear.

“Don’t you want to fuck us both at the same time, Kazuya?” Her voice is taunting, the perfect mix of cruelty and sex that makes him roll his hips upward, grazing her thigh with the head of his cock and he groans in affirmation.

Meisa reaches down to sheath him and Kame can almost taste it, being inside her, pushing up into her hands that touch him as little as possible. Shirota’s fingering him harder now, all three of his huge fingers moving in and out and rubbing that spot inside him that makes Kame lose his mind even more, and he’s just starting to get used to it when it leaves him completely.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, because he knows what’s coming.

“Shh,” Meisa coos into his ear. Her hand slides up his arm and pries his fingers off the railing, takes them in hers and it’s the most intimate thing he’s experienced yet tonight. “You’ll do well.”

Her words stroke his perfectionist bone and his body falls lax, only tensing a little when he feels something big and hard between his legs. He bites his lip as it goes in, squeezing Meisa’s fingers, and her lips brush his before she follows by sinking down onto him.

Kame’s head falls back, his mouth parting in a silent moan, because he’s never felt anything like this. Two at once, double stimulation increasing at the same speed as they both move in tandem, and Kame feels a little like they’re fucking each other  _through_  him. He isn’t exactly complaining, not at all, because his mind has vacated entirely and all he knows is the three of them moving together as one, Shirota buried deep inside him with Meisa all around him.

Shirota moans and he sounds a lot closer than he should be, then his big hand slides up Kame’s other arm and joins Meisa in holding his fingers. Kame notices the heavy weight on his chest and pictures Shirota’s body covering Meisa’s back, pushing her down onto him as all three of them manage to embrace full circle. Sweat covers him from head to toe and he’s not sure if it’s all his, doesn’t really care, his world exploding as Shirota thrusts into him over and over while Meisa bounces on top of him.

His orgasm looms in the distance; he can feel it with every nerve in his body and as much as he wants to will it away, the teasing he’s endured tonight has it coming even faster. He contributes to the rocking of Meisa’s bed by pounding up into her, sending her moans higher and feeling her tighten around him from the added depth. Then she comes and it surprises him enough to be right behind her, his moan dying in his throat as he finally gets release.

He feels Shirota finish inside him as well, and they roll off of him, one after the other. Stretching his legs is nice except that he’s suddenly enveloped by loneliness, leaving him cold and open and very, very worn out, but then his handcuffs are unlocked and the scarf is plucked from his eyes.

He blinks as he looks around, his eyes adjusting. The candles lining the room send flickering light all around, although that’s not all that makes Meisa and Shirota glow on either side of him. Meisa’s hair is all over the place and Shirota’s bangs are stuck to his face, both of them flushed and heaving with much needed air as they lay down, surrounding Kame.

“Oh, and don’t get all jealous like you own me,” Meisa says huffily to him, like she’d just given a lecture instead of torturing him for the better part of the evening, which could possibly be the same thing.

Shirota just rests his head on Kame’s chest and closes his eyes. The feeling hasn’t quite returned to Kame’s arms yet, but he manages to lift one and push Shirota’s hair out of his face. A glance towards Meisa shows her smiling, approvingly, and Kame thinks they have a very strange relationship.

But as he looks past them and sees fog on every inch of the mirror across the room, he’s glad to be a part of it.


End file.
